Evolution

by Teri Terry

  The helicopter door opens; Xander emerges. He helps—a mixture of helping and dragging—someone else out the door. It’s a girl with blond hair. He takes her arm, and he laughs; she’s giving him some cheek, I can tell from here.

  I look at her, and my stomach flips. Is it…

  No. It couldn’t be, could it?

  And I’m scared and angry, but there is another rush of longing through me all at once too. I don’t know whether to run toward them or away.

  I look again.

  It really is her; it is. Iona.

  “Who is she?” Callie says, forgotten at my side.

  Iona is looking at me, then looking again—much like I have been with her. Xander lets go of her arm.

  “Shay? Shay!” Iona shrieks and runs toward me, and I run to her, and then her arms are around me, mine around her, and so many emotions are rising inside me now that I can’t speak.

  How is she here? Why? Xander brought her: to be a subject. Didn’t he? And I’m furious and scared at once, that he could play with her life like this.

  Will she catch it?

  She’s pulling away now, looking at me with some trace of fear in her eyes too.

  Because I’m a survivor, is that it? Pain passes through me.

  “Despite what you may have heard, I’m not contagious—survivors don’t carry the epidemic,” I say. “You believe me, don’t you?”

  “Yes, yes; of course I do,” Iona says, her eyes searching my face. “It really is still you, though, no matter how you’ve changed. Isn’t it, Shay?”

  “Yes. I’m still me. But the epidemic has been here, just a day ago. You shouldn’t be here; it isn’t safe.”

  “Tell that to Mr. Ego.”

  “What happened?”

  Xander has caught up with Iona now, stands behind her. “I brought her along for a visit. I thought you’d be happy to see each other?”

  “Take her home, Xander. Do it now.”

  “No.”

  You bastard.

  I’ve been called worse.

  The wind swirls, the helicopter blades still going behind us; someone—one of the few immune here, untouched by the epidemic—is walking toward it to deal with it for Xander. If I could fly the damn thing, I’d knock both him and Xander over and run for it with Callie and Iona.

  I can still taste smoke at the back of my throat from the pyres, the bodies. The least we can do is take Iona out of the open air, to our house—a place no one has been sick.

  “Come on, let’s get you inside.” I turn my back on Xander. “Breathe through a sleeve or something,” I say to Iona.

  “Will that help?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I rush her to our house, Callie with us. We get inside, shut the door, and I race around the place, closing all the windows. I’m so scared for Iona I can hardly think.

  But then she stops me and takes my hand.

  “Shay. I’m so sorry about your mum,” she says, and I burst into tears.

  CHAPTER 15

  CALLIE

  “LET’S SEE IF I HAVE THIS STRAIGHT,” Iona says. “This place we’re at that you call Community is part of Multiverse. And you’re Callie—Kai’s sister? The one he and Shay were looking for?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wow. And Mr. Ego, who is also known as Xander, is the head of Multiverse. And not only is he your dad, he’s also Shay’s dad. And she’s run off to have words with him now about bringing me here.” Iona shakes her head. “Really? This is all true?”

  I nod.

  “Where is Kai?”

  “I don’t know. Shay doesn’t either.” I’m uncomfortable with all these questions, not sure what she might ask next, so I ask some of my own. “Where did you come from? And how did you end up here?”

  “Our family farm, along with some neighbors’, has been barricaded off since the epidemic began; we’ve managed to stay clear of it. I was working in the fields with my brothers. We heard this helicopter come—it landed half on our veg garden, thanks very much. Mum’ll be furious.” Then pain crosses her face, as if she realizes her own departure will be harder for her mum to deal with.

  “Anyway, my brother went running for his shotgun, when he just fell over. My other brother too. It was like they passed out, bang, just like that.”

  “They’re okay?”

  “Mr. Ego said he put them to sleep, that they’d wake up in a few hours.”

  “And then what happened?”

  “He invited me for a ride. And it was like I couldn’t say no, couldn’t stop myself from stepping forward, getting in.”

  “He’s like that.”

  “Huh. But he wouldn’t tell me why he came there in the first place, where we were going, and even though I couldn’t do anything about it, I was really angry.”

  “Believe me: I know how that feels.”

  “And then we landed here, and I saw Shay. But I still don’t understand why I’m here. Shay obviously didn’t know anything about me coming either.”

  I’m looking at her, this Iona. Shay introduced her as my best friend before she ran off to Xander, after telling me to fill Iona in on things. And I’d felt something like jealousy when Shay said that thing about Iona being Shay’s best friend, as if Iona was going to take my place with Shay. But why did Xander bring her if she might get sick?

  Then I’m remembering the things I overheard that he said to Cepta—she was upset, but he said they had to pursue this knowledge, something like that. But I truly don’t understand what it means.

  “I don’t know,” is all I say. “Maybe Shay does. Or maybe Xander will tell her.”

  CHAPTER 16

  SHAY

  “HOW COULD YOU BRING HER HERE?!” I’m so furious my hands are pushing at his chest, shoving him, without any thought.

  “You needed a subject to test who hasn’t been exposed to the epidemic. I brought you one.”

  “And you just randomly picked my best friend?”

  “Shay, it was a practical, obvious solution. There are very few people available in Scotland who aren’t either immune or dead: this group wasn’t too far away.”

  “How did you even know about Iona?”

  “From my computer—on Shetland. I saw the communications between you and Iona on her blog.”

  “So you were why it was compromised. Does that mean it was you who sent people to Iona’s friend’s place? The one Kai was going to go to?”

  “Yes, but he never showed.”

  “Why were you trying to find him? It’s not like you get along.”

  “No. But we were trying to find you, a known survivor. He seemed the best link. We didn’t know at that point that you were at the air force facility. Likewise, we also helped Freja get away from the authorities in London, but she disappeared with Kai before we could contact her.”

  I shake my head, pushing out the questions, my wanting to know things that don’t matter right now when only one thing does—Iona.

  “How could you bring Iona here? The epidemic has been here just a day ago. She might get sick. How could you just casually risk someone’s life like that?”

  Not just anyone: Iona. Someone I care about.

  “Don’t waste time.”

  “What?”

  “In case she gets sick, don’t waste time. Here is your chance to investigate someone who is well, and then see what happens if they get sick.”

  My hand is a fist and taking a swing at him before I know what I’m doing, but he easily catches it in his hand. He’s half laughing, then serious. “Don’t push your luck, Shay.”

  I stare at him: he’s my father, and he does these things? And it’s not just what he has done that hurts. It’s that he has done it to me, to someone I care about.

  I back away from Xander, and I run.

  CHAPTER 17 />
  CALLIE

  SHAY BURSTS BACK INTO THE HOUSE. Her eyes are wild.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “He—I—I can’t…”

  “Sit down,” Iona says. “Breathe. Then explain.”

  Shay nods, sits down across from us. Calms herself, her breathing, but her eyes are full of horror and pain.

  And guilt.

  “I’m so sorry, Iona. It’s my fault you’ve been caught up in this.”

  “No, it isn’t. It’s Mr. Ego’s fault. So what is he up to?”

  A half smile. “Good nickname, by the way, though maybe it’s more accurate to say he thinks he is God.”

  “So then, what is our deluded demigod up to?”

  “Trying to work out how to cure the epidemic.”

  “It’s hard to argue with that.”

  “You’re a subject.”

  “Not so good.”

  Shay starts to explain about how everyone who lived here got sick, and how she was trying to save them—the way she can join with people, take their pain. That she saw differences in the DNA of survivors.

  “Whoa. You can seriously look at somebody’s DNA, kind of inside of them?”

  “Yes. And survivors have extra DNA that no one else has.”

  “Do I have it?”

  “I don’t know. I can check. But only about one in fifty thousand who get sick survive.” Shay’s face is a misery.

  “I still don’t understand why he brought me here.”

  “About one in twenty are immune. If you’re not immune, I can see how you change from before being ill and during the process of becoming ill—see if there is a way to bias what is happening toward survival. I haven’t done that before. I’ve only seen people when they are already really sick.”

  “So he actually wants me to be infected? Deluded demigod is too good for him.” She says a string of swears, not all I’m sure I’ve heard, and while I’ve been listening to Shay explain these things to Iona, I’m beginning to understand some things I didn’t before. And remembering things I heard. Horror is growing inside of me.

  “Shay? Jamar told me some things when he was sick.”

  “What’s that?”

  “He said no one was sick at the farm. That they were told to come back here, and some people met them on the way before they got here—he thinks that’s who they caught it from.”

  “What?”

  “Who’s Jamar?” Iona says.

  “There was a group of about ten who were away when the illness struck,” I say. “Xander said they were already sick. That they came home to die.”

  “That’s not what Jamar told me.”

  “Xander deliberately brought them here? I mean, I’d wondered at the time, but he convinced me—and Cepta too—no. He lied, and we believed him.”

  “Xander is a deluded demigod megalomaniac murderer: double D, double M,” Iona says, and then adds more swear words. “Though maybe I’ll be a survivor, and he’s out of luck?” she adds.

  “You could be. Or you could be immune.”

  “One in twenty chance of immunity: not the greatest odds. Though if I had a one in twenty chance of winning the lottery, I’d think it was worth a shot. Not so keen on one in fifty thousand.”

  “I don’t know how to tell if someone will be immune or not. But do you want to know if you might be a survivor if you get sick? Though I don’t have to do any of what he wants me to do. We could just do what we like tonight and see what happens tomorrow.”

  “Tempting—just to be able to waggle our middle fingers at him. But is there a chance that if I’m not immune, you could do something about it if I get sick?”

  “Maybe; I don’t know. I haven’t managed it before.” Shay’s head drops to her hands.

  “I bet if there is a way, you’ll find it,” I say.

  Shay looks up, a half smile there, but it falls away. “Thank you, Callie. But all I’ve done so far is fail.” She turns to Iona. “So. Do you want to know if you could be a survivor?”

  CHAPTER 18

  SHAY

  IONA IS NERVOUS, and there isn’t much that scares her.

  “What do you have to do? Does it hurt?”

  “No. All I’m going to do is join with your mind, then have a look at your DNA and anything else I can find. If it looks as though you’re likely to be a survivor based on that, I might compare your DNA to Callie’s too: is that okay, Callie?”

  “Of course.”

  “So, here we are: the perfect sample group for you to poke around in,” Iona says. “An immune, a survivor, and me: the great unknown. What do you mean, exactly, by joining with my mind? Is it like a Vulcan mind-meld?”

  “I don’t know, maybe. You’d have to ask Spock.”

  “Really, it’s okay,” Callie says. “Xander would have been doing it before to make you get on the helicopter and stuff—it didn’t hurt, did it?”

  “You mean you could make me do stuff too?” Iona says to me.

  “I could. But I won’t.”

  “All right. Go. But you’ll stop if I ask you to?”

  “Of course.”

  Iona is sitting straight upright in her seat, rigid.

  “Maybe try to relax a bit? Just lean back, close your eyes. Be comfortable. This may take a while. Remember to breathe.” I’m saying that as much to myself as to her. As close as we were before, we’ll be closer now. Will she be like Kai, and hate that I can do this?

  I reach out.

  Hi, Iona.

  She’s startled. “Shay?” she says out loud. Not that I can hear her—when I’m reaching out like this, my physical awareness of myself and my surroundings vanishes—but I can see it inside her that she has done so.

  You can talk out loud if you want to, but you can also say it in your head and I’ll still hear it.

  Shay. This is weird.

  Yep. Sorry, I’m the Mistress of Extreme Weirdness now. And I let her see my feelings, not just me seeing hers.

  How lonely that must be. She takes my hand, squeezes—again, not something I can feel physically, just through Iona’s mind.

  If you hold my hand now, I can’t feel it. I’m just in my mind, not in my body while I do this.

  Mega-weird. Sorry. Go on, do whatever it is.

  Just leaving a light touch on her thoughts, her mind, in case she wants me to stop, I reach: further inside, blood, cells, particles, waves. I spin around within her, not wanting to look close enough to know. But that’s why I’m here, isn’t it?

  I force myself to focus on Iona’s DNA. And they’re not there—the repeating junk DNA sequences I have, and Cepta has—they’re not there. Chances were small, but I’d still hoped. If we’re right about how this works, then if Iona gets sick, she won’t survive. Is there any chance she hasn’t been exposed to it coming here, where others have died so recently? Could it pass her by?

  But that’s not the end of the question: she could still be one of the five percent who are immune.

  I study closer and deeper along every strand of her DNA, every gene, every protein. I join with Callie too, to see if there is anything I’ve missed that is different about her.

  Maybe—just maybe—there is something about the actual structure of some of the DNA that is different in Callie? The way it is packed together or something? But I’m not sure.

  Finally, I can’t put this off any longer.

  I withdraw, open my eyes. Iona’s meet mine.

  “Give it to me straight,” she says.

  “Okay. If we’re right about how this all works—going by your DNA—you won’t survive if you fall ill. All we can do is hope that you are immune.”

  CHAPTER 19

  CALLIE

  WE FOUND SOME POPCORN and got Anna in the kitchen to make special unhealthy treats. We’re staying up all night. Because, as Io
na said, if this could be her last night, she might as well enjoy it.

  “Are you sure there isn’t something to drink?” Iona says.

  “Sorry,” Shay says. “It’s not really the Multiverse way. Though there is something else I could do: I can boost your serotonin. You’ll feel amazing.”

  “Leave that for when I get sick.”

  “If.”

  “I think Cepta has some wine,” I say.

  “Really?” Shay says, surprised. “Should we invite her?”

  “Who is Cepta?” Iona asks.

  “She was—well, I guess she still is—the Speaker for this branch of Community,” Shay says. “Like, she’s in charge when Xander isn’t here. But they haven’t been getting along that great.”

  “Sounds like a good reason to invite her,” Iona says.

  “Callie? Do you mind?”

  I hesitate. “No,” I say, even though I do. “But can you have wine, Shay? When you might have to be joining minds and healing and all that later?”

  “No problem; I can metabolize it out of my system in a blink if I need to.”

  “No hangovers?” Iona says.

  “No chance.”

  “Okay, let’s invite her!”

  Shay’s eyes weird out, and Iona’s do in a different way: she hasn’t seen that before.

  “What’s with Shay’s eyes?” Iona says.

  “It means she’s reaching somewhere, to talk to somebody or something. She was like that the whole time she was joined with you.”

  “Wow.”

  Shay’s eyes go back to normal. She frowns. “Cepta isn’t answering. Maybe we should check on her? She hasn’t been quite right since—well. Since so many people died.” Her eyes flash to Iona with a sorry for having mentioned that.

  “I’ll go,” I say.